


Fateful Objects

by scully_snails



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Professors, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Hannibal, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hannigram - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Power Bottom Hannibal, Professor Hannibal / TA Will, Rimming, Romance, Skype, Skype Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smoking, Top Will, Topping from the Bottom, daddy tummy, hannigram AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:13:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scully_snails/pseuds/scully_snails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter is a popular psychology professor; Will Graham is his anxious, but adorable TA.  When Will does his Professor Lecter a favor, he offers to cook him dinner to repay him.  Once their sexual tension becomes unbearable, how will they navigate what comes next?</p><p>// It burns slowly, but hopefully it'll be worth it!  This is only my second fic ever, so ALL OF THE NERVES <33 \\</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Professor… uh… Professor Lecter will be here in… any… uh… any minute,” Will stammered from in front of the podium. Rows of undergrads blurred into one another as the psychology grad student peered over them toward the door at the back of the lecture hall, hoping Dr. Lecter would appear sooner rather than later. He had no idea how to lead the class--he was here to grade papers and organize labs, not to teach the kids anything.

“Where is he?” came a high-pitched, demanding voice from somewhere in the center of the room.

Will bit the corner of his lip. “Uh… he’s just running late,” he ran a hand through his unkempt waves. “I’m sure it’s…” he sighed, realizing he was totally unsure what to say. His eyes darted nervously around the room. “So maybe… let’s talk about the reading?” Will didn’t intend for it to come out as a question. The awkward shuffling of papers and snickering around the room made him antsy.

Will circled around to stand behind the wooden podium--Dr. Lecter’s normal post--and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “We had, uh, pages 324 to 385 for today… did anyone have any questions or…” he trailed off, gazing hopefully around the room and hoping someone would save him from himself.

A curly-haired blonde in the front row raised her hand and Will nodded gratefully in her direction. “So… it talks about our senses as adaptation, but I don’t really get this thing about pain fitting into it. Like, what does pain have to do with the senses?”

“Ah!” Will smiled slightly. “Good question! So… um…” he flipped through his copy of the textbook. “So our senses exist to help us through the world, right? And, uh, when something… uh… when something hurts--”

Will was interrupted by the thick door at the back of the room swinging outward. As he saw Hannibal enter, dressed characteristically sharply in a dark blazer and burgundy button-down, cheerfully swinging his leather briefcase, Will breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“When something hurts, Will?” Hannibal asked as he trotted down the aisle.

“Oh, well… uh… I was just, ah, saying that pain is… can be…”

“Pain can be good, right?” Hannibal smiled toward the group of students.

“Yeah, um, even though pain isn’t pleasant, it’s… adaptive.” Will averted his eyes, staring down at the book on the podium.

“It can be pleasant, though, after all,” Hannibal joked, patting Will on the shoulder. Smattered giggles arose from the rows and Hannibal smirked in reply. “Thanks for taking over,” he whispered to his visibly nervous TA.

Will smiled awkwardly and swept his book off the podium, making room for Dr. Lecter’s. “I’m sorry I was late,” he announced to the room. “One can rarely predict what trouble a car may present. So… shall we? Let’s pick up at the fantastic place Will has left us--page 341!”

Will blushed despite himself and sat down in the chair reserved for him at the side of the room. _Fantastic_ , he thought. _He thinks I’m fantastic._ It was a throwaway comment--Will could rationalize this. But the heavy grip of Dr. Lecter’s hand on his shoulder had burned into his skin. _Fantastic._

It was all he could think about for the next fifty-some minutes--the way it’d felt, the way Dr. Lecter had smelled like leather and cigarette smoke, standing so close to him. He inhaled absent-mindedly, hoping to somehow catch the scent from across the room. Will hadn’t always felt this way about his mentor. He’d asked to work for him at the beginning of last semester, wanting a chance to get to know the man who published so prolifically Will doubted he had anything even vaguely resembling a personal life. He’d always felt a strange kinship with Dr. Lecter--even when he knew him only by reputation. A lonely man, he’d assumed--charming, sure, but beneath it all, lonely. With how much he’d dedicated himself to his work, he had to be.

“Will?” Dr. Lecter’s thickly accented voice shook him from his daydream.

“Oh!” he startled. “Hi--sorry--hi!” He shook his long hair from the front of his glasses to peer up at the handsome man who towered over him. The sheepish smile on his face gave away the fact that his mind had been somewhere besides room 232.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” the professor smiled in return, the “you” lulling from his full top lip--the lip Will had come to find himself thinking about more than he’d like to admit. “For taking over.”

“Oh, sure! Sure! Not a problem,” Will shook his head, standing to meet Dr. Lecter and swinging his messenger back over his shoulder.

“Well, it was much appreciated. My car battery died. I was able to get a jump, but wasn’t in too much of a rush because I knew you could handle the class.”

“Oh, well… I think you overestimate me, Doctor,” Will chuffed.

“My dear Will, I could never,” Hannibal’s voice softened a bit--or at least Will imagined it did. “I’d love to treat you to dinner for your help.”

Will tapped his foot nervously. “I… uh… sure,” he gave in with hardly any resistance. “I’d like that.”

“My house at 8? Shall I pick you up or--”

“No, no, don’t worry! I’ll pick myself up.” Will stumbled over his words.

Hannibal chuckled as he scribbled his address on a post-it-note and handed it to Will. “As long as you pick yourself up and deliver yourself promptly to me, that works.” He winked playfully. “See you then?”

Will nodded and as soon as Dr. Lecter had his back to him, swallowed hard. _It’s not a date_ , he told himself. _It’s not a date._ It was the same line that would run through his head all day, all evening as he tore through his closet, trying to find something respectable to wear--something worthy of his mentor’s affections.

He looked at himself in the full-length mirror, freshly showered, hair quickly fluffing up. Even wearing nothing but an old pair of boxer shorts with dog bones on them, Will wasn’t satisfied. _It’s not a date_ , he chastised himself, but still stepped out of his dog boxers and rummaged through the dresser, searching for something more sophisticated. Will settled on a pair of small black boxer briefs--ones he’d bought on clearance just in case he’d ever get the chance to wear them for somebody. Excepting the time he’d put off laundry too long and run out of clean underwear, no one else had seen them--and even then, it had just been Winston, his retriever mix.

Will laughed exasperatedly at the thought of anyone but Winston ever seeing him naked. His skinny frame, paired with a slight belly from night after night of frozen dinners, wasn’t exactly the thing to drive anyone wild, he figured. Even the concept of Dr. Lecter finding him attractive was nonsensical to him, but yet here he stood--eyeing the fit of the tight boxer briefs, hoping beyond all hope that Hannibal would soon be doing the same.

A pair of jeans, navy blue V-neck t-shirt, and black blazer later, and Will was finally content. He reached beneath his shirt, nervously rolling on another layer of deodorant, before tossing a couple of Milk-Bones Winston’s way as he left the bedroom. “Okay,” he said aloud. “Wallet. Phone. Keys.” He looked around the kitchen. “Shit!” Will remembered that he’d been meaning to swing by the liquor store for something to gift Hannibal. His cabinet was stocked only with a third of a bottle of cheap whiskey, but he felt guilty going empty handed. “It’ll do,” he muttered to himself, and headed to the car, glass bottle trembling slightly in his grip.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_It’s not a date._ Will turned on the radio, hoping for something to calm his nerves. Instead, he found country songs about longing, rap songs about fucking, and some scream-y thing that threatened to bring on a headache after only a few seconds. He jabbed at the “AM/FM” button and was relieved to hear what he assumed was NPR. He zoned out, breathing deeply along with the man’s soothing voice.

Will had Google-mapped Dr. Lecter’s house as soon as he’d gotten home, curious for new bits of information about him. When he clicked “satellite view” and was greeted by a grandiose--albeit slightly blurry--old house with a sprawling sloped front yard, he couldn’t be less surprised. Of course a man as classy as Hannibal lived in a place that looked like it could be straight out of a magazine. 

The fine hairs on his arms prickled up when he slowly turned onto Dr. Lecter’s street. _It’s not a date._ Once in the wide driveway, he turned the car off and flipped the visor mirror down to glance at himself one last time. Nothing in his teeth, not too much dog hair on his shirt, jacket straightened. Check, check, check. He grabbed the bottle from its hiding place beneath the passenger seat, liquid sloshing around as he took a deep breath and headed for the front door.

“Will!” Hannibal’s face lifted as he opened the door before Will had even gotten a chance to knock. 

“Hey,” Will smiled, nervously averting his eyes from his mentor. 

“Come on in!” Hannibal stepped aside, motioning him ahead. Will bowed his head slightly, allowing Dr. Lecter to close the door behind him. “Whiskey?” he nodded at the bottle clenched tightly in his guest’s hand. 

“Oh, yeah…” Will grinned sheepishly. “I forgot to get some wine or something, so… uh… this is just… uh… what I had.” He extended the bottle toward him. “I hope it’s not--” 

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal smiled sweetly. “This’ll go great with dessert, actually. We must be on the same wavelength.” He rested his hand comfortingly between Will’s shoulder blades. “Shall we eat? Dinner’s almost ready.” 

_It’s not a date_ , Will reminded himself, but the voice in his head wavered against the heat of Hannibal’s palm. He allowed the older man to lead him into the expansive kitchen, dim lights making the room feel as though it was hovering in a state of anticipation. “Wow,” he gasped. “Your kitchen is great, Dr. Lecter.” 

“You can call me Hannibal, you know.” He gingerly sat the whiskey bottle on the marble countertop and pulled the oven door open to check on the food. Will said nothing until Hannibal peered up at him, still bent down low, and smirked at his obvious anxiety. 

“Oh… okay… good!” he stammered, wholly distracted by the sight of Hannibal bent over in his tight dress slacks and button-down, held together by a couple less buttons than it had been earlier in the day. 

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked. “Just a couple more minutes on the food.” Will nodded shyly and in one fell swoop, Hannibal had retrieved both a glass and a bottle of cabernet. As Hannibal worked at the cork, Will watched his tanned forearms--bare thanks to rolled-up sleeves--flex. He licked his lips absentmindedly. “Thirsty?” Hannibal smiled, noticing Will’s tongue darting out of his mouth. 

“Yes, I… yes.” Will gratefully accepted the glass of wine Hannibal slid over to him and immediately chugged half of it. A low flush crept across his cheeks. Will was unused to the warm-drunk feeling of wine since he only drank it on special occasions--weddings, mainly. “It’s good!” he raised his eyebrows approvingly at Hannibal, who nodded and took a sip from his own glass in response. 

Hannibal checked again on the food. “Ah, perfect!” Stretching for a pair of oven mitts, he retrieved a pan from the oven--its rich, garlicky smell reaching to even the farthest corners of the room. With the dexterity of a chef more familiar with a Michelin-starred restaurant than a Baltimore home kitchen, Hannibal plated the meat, spooning something from a sautee pan on the stove over the top of it. Will watched in awe, practically drooling at the mingling scents of rosemary, tomato, and… something else he couldn’t name. 

He followed Hannibal, who carried the two plates to the table before returning to the kitchen for his glass of wine. “Braised lamb,” Hannibal answered the unasked question as he motioned to Will to sit. “Not too fancy, I suppose, but one of my favorite dishes.” 

“Not too fancy?!” Will snorted. “This is the nicest meal I’ve had in years!” 

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that. You deserve nice things.” 

Will blushed and sipped his wine. They ate in relative quiet, punctuated only with small talk about the lazy undergrads in Hannibal’s class and the overly-eager grad students Will called his peers--but only by name. He never socialized with any of them, barely even knew who some of them were. 

Unaware of how hungry he’d been, Will felt slightly embarrassed to have cleaned his plate before Hannibal was even closed to finished with his meal. He shuffled the fork around in the leftover glaze and toyed with the stem of his empty wine glass before realizing that Hannibal was watching him curiously. “You have some quite adorable habits, Will,” he said softly before taking the final bite from his plate. 

“Oh,” Will chuckled. “Sorry.” He gently rested the fork against the side of his plate. 

“No need to apologize.” Hannibal’s eyes were kind, playful. “I like watching you.” Will blushed furiously and knew there was no way Dr. Lecter hadn’t noticed. Hannibal played it cool, though, clearing the plates and returning with the bottle of wine. “I made dessert, but it should cool a bit longer. Perhaps the grand tour?” He tilted the bottle into Will’s glass, taking care not to splash him with the cabernet. 

“Yes!” Will said resolutely, determined to mask his nervousness. “I’d love to see the rest of your house if the kitchen is this great!” 

Hannibal smirked proudly and poured himself a second glass. “I hope you’re easily impressed.” He left the over-half-empty bottle on the kitchen table and started down the hallway, the younger man at his heels. After quickly pointing out the guest bathroom and guest bedroom, Hannibal led Will into his study. Suddenly in comfortable territory, Will made a beeline for the bookshelves, curious about what kinds of things his mentor read in his spare time. 

“I feel as though I’m under inspection,” Hannibal playfully goaded. 

“Oh, no! No! I’m just curious!” Will didn’t turn away from the shelves, running his fingertips along the rows, head tilted to see each title. The older man leaned casually against the doorframe, swigging wine to mask his own rapidly increasing nervousness. He couldn’t help but linger on his assistant’s hips, cocked to the side as he perused the shelves. His jeans hugged his ass in a way that made Hannibal swallow hard as he stared. 

“I’ve always wanted to read this!” Will used one finger to slide a thin hardcover book from its spot. He’d perked up considerably since the pair had left the table. Hannibal wasn’t sure whether it was the wine or whether he was simply becoming more comfortable being in his house. 

“Borrow it, then.” 

“Oh, are you sure?” 

“Of course. I trust you.” 

“Thanks, Hannibal.” It was the first time Will had said his first name aloud--excepting when it slid from his lips between gasps and moans when he was alone. The realization--and the memory--caused a slow heat to crawl down Will’s chest and settle low in his stomach. Book in one hand, glass in the other, he stared intently at Hannibal, his eyes dilating with a sudden overwhelming desire to kiss him. 

Hannibal gazed back at him, their eyes locked, and his top lip began to curl in a way that Will interpreted as entirely lascivious. “What else would you like to see, Will?” His voice was lower than normal, almost husky. 

“I… uh…” 

Nodding back toward the hallway, Hannibal turned to leave. Will inhaled sharply, willing his frantic pulse to slow down. “Here is one of my favorite places in the house,” Hannibal called, beckoning Will to follow. Will set the wine glass and book on a desk. Around the corner, Hannibal unlocked and pushed open a heavy glass door. 

“Oh!” Will startled when he caught sight of Hannibal from behind--standing outside on a dark balcony, sipping his wine. He didn’t turn around to meet Will--knowing he was there was enough. “This is… this is somethin’!” 

“Beautiful, no?” Hannibal looked over his shoulder at Will and raised an eyebrow. The younger man approached until they stood side-by-side. For a split second, Will thought about putting his arm around Hannibal’s waist, but decided against it. 

They stood in silence for at least a full minute before they both--just out of the corners of their eyes--glanced at one another. Hannibal laughed, contemplating what he could realistically get away with in the moment. “Kind of romantic up here,” Will laughed in return. 

“It is.” Hannibal swallowed the rest of his wine and set the glass on the small patio table. “Glad to see you’ve relaxed a bit,” he smiled, stroking Will’s back. 

Will beamed in response. “Well, you’re a great host.” He leaned into his touch, silently willing Hannibal to never stop. 

Will’s every instinct told him to kiss Hannibal, to curl his entire body into his, to get as close as physically possible, but fear held him back. “This is nice,” Hannibal whispered. He pulled Will tighter against the side of his body and before he even realized what he was doing, Will rested his head on Hannibal’s chest, silently inhaling him. The light rosemary scent from the kitchen braided itself together with cigarette smoke, Old Spice deodorant, and the sickly sweet smell of red wine. “You’re lovely,” Hannibal sighed over the top of Will’s head. 

Both men were surprised to feel themselves nearly on the verge of tears at the moment. Hannibal had always had tender feelings for Will--from the moment they met, he’d felt an urge to protect and guide him. It didn’t take long for his affections to develop beyond the protective and into the desirous. Watching Will sitting at the side of his classroom, listening intently to him, Hannibal frequently found himself distracted by his beauty. He’d give Will the world if he could. 

After a few minutes of contented silence, Hannibal whispered, “Hey.” Will looked up at him, all wide, innocent eyes and pale pink skin. “How about dessert?” 


	3. Chapter 3

Back inside, Will waited patiently at the kitchen table, shy smile drawn across his cheeks, as Hannibal cut the dessert. He could hardly believe this was happening--that he was here, in a place he thought he’d only ever be able to imagine--and moreover, that Hannibal seemed to really want him here. The thought lit up his eyes as his host approached, carrying two small white plates, each holding a neat slice of something Will guessed resembled an elaborate pie.

“Apricot almond clafouti,” Hannibal set the plate in front of Will. “It’s French.” 

“Looks amazing, thank you, Hannibal,” Will’s mouth watered both at the food and at the man handing it to him. 

Hannibal nodded proudly. “Of course.” He took his own seat across from Will. “Ah!” he remembered after having just sat down. “The whiskey!” Ever-composed, he glided across the dining room to snatch the bottle from the counter, along with two glass tumblers from the cabinet. “I assume you’d like some?” he teased Will. 

“Please,” Will grinned. 

Hannibal slid him an entirely overfilled glass before pouring himself an equally decadent one. “To you, Will, for being such a help,” he sat and lifted his glass. Will blushed, but raised his to meet it. 

“And to you for dinner and dessert and--everything…” Will trailed off, averting his eyes from Hannibal’s. 

“To that,” Hannibal replied quietly, tapping his tumbler against Will’s and taking a swig. Will amusedly watched Hannibal’s face ever-so-slightly scrunch up as he swallowed. He was fairly sure Hannibal wasn’t accustomed to drinking whiskey that cost less than $10 a bottle and came from a corner store shelf. 

“You like to taste the alcohol, then?” Hannibal chided, watching Will sip gingerly from his glass. 

Will chuckled. “Guess so. I’m not too picky.” 

“Maybe not picky, but I find your taste to be entirely discerning, Will.” Hannibal forked up a bite of his dessert, prompting Will to mimic. 

“Discerning?” he asked skeptically. 

“I mean the way the girls in our class look at you--you could have your pick. You’re rather cute, after all.” 

Will flushed. “Ha!” He took a heavy swig of whiskey. “Not really my thing.” 

“What’s not? Flirting? Attractive young women?” 

“Both. Either.” He’d nearly drained his glass by this point. “And I’m not cute,” he protested. 

Hannibal laughed aloud. “If you say not.” 

“Besides, I see the way the girls flock to you. You practically have a fanclub. I mean, it’s pretty uncommon for the psych department to have such a handsome professor in its ranks.” 

Hannibal just barely raised the corners of his mouth into a smirk. “You look especially nice this evening.” 

“Oh, this--” Will tugged at his blazer. “Yeah, I--” he ran a hand through his hair. “Trying to look… I don’t know.” The whiskey made his tongue lay warm and heavy in his mouth, causing words to fail him. 

“Well, I noticed.” Hannibal cut a bite and eyed Will across the table as he blushed and smiled in spite of himself. 

_It’s not a date. It’s not a date._ Even so, it was the best date he’d ever been on. His mind darted to the decision to take off the dog boxers and he snorted into his nearly-empty whiskey. 

“What?” Hannibal smiled. 

“Nothing, I… I just spent a long time trying to decide what to wear.” Hannibal’s eyes shined. “That was a stupid thing to say.” Will drained his glass. 

“On the contrary! I find it charming that you care so much.” 

“I do,” Will whispered, standing to retrieve the small swill of whiskey left on the counter. Hannibal eyed his clafouti, smirking into the fruit. _Oh, William_ , he thought happily. _My sweet boy._

Will dribbled the last of the bottle into his glass before noticing that Hannibal’s was nearly empty, as well. “Oh… um… we can share. There’s probably a shot each left here,” he held the glass up for Hannibal’s inspection. 

Hannibal got up to clear the plates. “It’s been awhile since I’ve taken a shot,” he laughed. “But the night calls for it, does it not?” 

Will poured half the liquid into the other man’s glass and handed it to him where he stood, leaning, elbows propped, on the kitchen counter. Taking his place directly across from him and mirroring his stance, Will was acutely aware of how close their faces were… how easy it would be to just lean over and… 

Hannibal reached toward him, cradling his cheek in his palm. Will fluttered his eyelashes closed for a split-second and sighed happily. “I don’t even feel like myself right now,” he whispered. 

“Funny, I feel especially like myself around you,” Hannibal whispered back. 

“I mean… I just feel… content. I feel happy. That’s not normal for me.” He raised one hand to cover Hannibal’s where it lay on his face, then used it to slide Hannibal’s palm toward his mouth, pressing his lips lightly against it. Hannibal’s hands were surprisingly soft, but strong, definitively masculine held over Will’s mouth. 

Hannibal smiled enticingly. “I particularly enjoy this version of Will Graham.” 

“Me too.” Will hovered a moment before pulling away to reach for his whiskey. Hannibal followed suit, swirling the whiskey beneath his nose. “Let’s do it,” Will raised his glass. 

“Let’s.” Hannibal clanged his glass against Will’s, then gulped the cheap liquor. As the glass clattered to the marble, Hannibal made a sour face that nearly caused Will to spit out his half-swallowed shot. 

“You really couldn’t cut it with the sorority girls in your class, huh?” he teased. 

Hannibal shook his head, trying to rid his mouth of the bitterness, and laughed. “No! No, not at all!” 

“Restroom?” Will asked, only vaguely remembering which door Hannibal pointed out to him earlier in the evening. 

“Second door on the right,” he motioned with his head and sat the glasses in the sink. 

Door safely locked behind him, Will exhaled sharply into the mirror. As ecstatic and turned on as he was, his nerves were completely shot and the heartburn creeping up his chest threatened to ruin the night. _Would it be too creepy to rummage for a Tums?_ he wondered. He contemplated the question while peeing, then washed his hands and figured _screw it_ , opening the medicine cabinet above the sink and taking careful note of Hannibal’s deodorant, aftershave, toothpaste, pomade… all of the things that contributed to the scent Will would all-too-happily drown in. 

Failing to find Tums, he tried a drawer beneath the sink. Aspirin… Band-Aids… Will finally found a small blue bottle of antacid and took a hearty swig. “Okay,” he said aloud to his reflection, making sure to turn the water back on as he shut the drawer--just in case Hannibal could hear him rummaging around in his things. With a quick finger-comb of a few strands from his thick mop of hair, Will exited the bathroom, anxious to return to the man waiting for him in the kitchen. 

“Didn’t want you to forget this,” Hannibal said, waving the book he’d offered to loan Will. Will took it nervously, unsure if this was Hannibal’s way of kicking him out or not. 

“Oh, yeah--thanks,” Will mumbled, dropping it to his side. “So, uh…” 

“It’s rather late and you’ve got a bit of a drive…” Hannibal said quietly. Will thought he looked anxious, but found it particularly hard to read him--something extremely rare for him. 

“Yeah.” He shifted his weight to the other foot. “Thanks for dinner.” He peered almost-dejectedly at Hannibal, who broke eye contact by looking down at a hangnail he was picking from his thumb. 

“Anytime,” he half-smiled. After an awkwardly silent moment, Will started for the front door, wondering what had changed in the two minutes it had taken him to piss. Hannibal opened it for him. “I’ll see you… soon?” 

Will nodded. “Friday.” He chastised himself for hoping it’d be less than the 36 hours until their next lecture before he saw Hannibal again. 

“Friday,” Hannibal rubbed Will’s shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Hannibal.” 

“Goodnight, Will,” Hannibal’s voice wavered uncharacteristically. Will had barely made it out of the house before Hannibal gently closed the door behind him, refusing to allow himself the decadent pleasure of watching his TA walk down the driveway. He knew he could have gotten away with doing everything his mind told him to do, putting his hands and mouth every place they wanted to go, but something held him back. Will would be worth the wait. 


	4. Chapter 4

When Winston heard the key in the front door, he sprinted giddily toward it, anticipating his owner’s appearance. “Hey buddy,” Will murmured toward him, halfheartedly scratching him between the ears. He yanked his wallet and phone out of his pockets and threw them violently onto the kitchen table, along with Hannibal’s book. Cracking the lone can of PBR left in the fridge, he sighed loudly enough that it caused Winston’s ears to perk up. “It’s okay,” he reassured him, grabbing a slice of ham from the cheap plastic container in the fridge and throwing it in his direction.

Will draped his blazer over his one dining room chair and paced, switching the cold beer from hand to hand as he drank ravenously. He couldn’t figure out what he’d done to make Hannibal end the night so abruptly--everything had been going so well up until that moment. What he couldn’t deny, despite his frustration and anger at himself, was how enthralling the evening had been. With his free hand, he scratched his stomach, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he’d made the entire drive horny as hell. “Fuck it,” he said aloud, stripping himself of his t-shirt and sitting down at his desk. 

He scrolled through the junk mail, emails from Hannibal’s students, and Home Depot coupons in his inbox, clicking emptily on each. He opened a new tab, racking his brain for something to Google. “DIY dog toys” kept him distracted for a couple of minutes, as did “Atlantic maritime forecast,” but soon he ended up rubbing his tense forehead with one hand and lazily crumpling his beer can with the other. 

Winston padded around in a circle before curling up on the floor beside Will’s desk chair. Will smiled reflexively at his flopping furry tail. He closed his computer, but after only a couple of seconds, reopened it and typed “pornhub” into Google. The frontpage--full of things labeled “teen” and “MILF”--hardly appealed to him at the moment. His finger drew the cursor to “male” and then typed “romantic.” Scrolling for a tall, sandy-haired, well-dressed man was more or less a futile effort; Will clicked on the first man he could squint into Hannibal and took a deep breath. 

It’s not like this was the first time he’d get himself off to Hannibal, but he’d never felt this anxious about imagining him. The smaller man in the video reverse-straddled the blonde man, the blonde’s strong hands forcing the brunette down farther, harder onto his cock as he thrust upward into him. Will unbuttoned, then unzipped his pants, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, stroking himself softly in rhythm with the blonde’s hips. All he could see was Hannibal… imagining the smell of his sweat, the heavy hum of his breath against his neck. He closed his eyes and remembered the way his lips felt against Hannibal’s hand, meeting such little resistance… all the other places he’d like to put his lips. 

_BEEP BOOP BOOP_

Skype. 

_BEEP BOOP BOOP_

Will forced his eyes open to see “Hannibal Lecter calling” accompanied by a small picture of him--his faculty ID photo. “FUCK,” he hissed. “FUCK.” 

_BEEP BOOP BOOP_

Will sped to close his tabs and click “answer with video.” It took five or six seconds until Hannibal’s face popped up on the screen. He was in a room Will didn’t immediately recognize. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Hannibal to call him on Skype--it was easier to discuss student papers and tests online than it was to make their schedules mesh. But now? 

“Will,” Hannibal breathed. 

“Hi,” he answered flatly. 

“Is it a bad time?” Hannibal spoke quietly. 

Will shook his head. “No. Not really… no.” 

“I wanted to talk to you… I wanted… dammit.” He rubbed his cheekbones with his thumb and forefinger. “That’s it, I suppose. I wanted.” 

Will nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yeah.” 

“I didn’t know how you felt.” 

“Know the feeling,” Will joked dryly. 

“Will.” Hannibal smiled with a softness the younger man wasn’t used to seeing. 

“Hannibal,” he breathed. 

“I shouldn’t have…” 

“No. You _should_ have.” 

“I shouldn’t have let you leave. You make me feel exposed, Will.” 

Will smiled, almost proudly. “So do you.” 

“Speaking of which--I like the view,” Hannibal winked. 

“Oh!” Will looked at his own small picture on the screen and only then remembered he was shirtless. He was so concerned about hiding what was happening below that that answering the call shirtless seemed so inconsequential. He smirked. 

“Did I interrupt something?” Hannibal’s beautiful cupid’s bow became even more accented as he pursed his lips playfully. 

“Heh… well…” he trailed off. 

“I can’t say I blame you. I’m in bed, but… there’s hardly any sleep on the horizon.” 

“This is how I get to see your bedroom, huh?” 

Hannibal laughed and turned his computer in a slow 360 around the room. “There it is!” 

“Nice,” Will laughed in response. “If I’d seen it earlier…” 

“You’d probably still be in it,” Hannibal teased. 

Will licked his lips. “Torture,” he shook his head. “This is torture.” 

“What did you tell the students, my sweet Will? Pain can be good?” 

“Mmmhmm,” Will hummed. “Not like this.” 

“What would you prefer?” 

“To be there.” Shyly, Will looked away from the camera. 

“I’d just bring you pain in a different way.” Hannibal’s voice was low, husky. 

“Oh?” Will raised an eyebrow. 

“How many times tonight I wanted to pin your wrists down, climb on top of you…” Will heard Hannibal’s breath quicken. 

“Then what?” Will bit his lower lip, which he noticed prompted Hannibal to readjust the computer on his lap. “What?” he teased. 

“Mmmm, I think you know what,” Hannibal chuckled. 

“Then?” 

“Then I’d grab your hair, force you to look in my eyes as I unbuttoned your pants.” 

Will swallowed audibly. 

“I’d bite your lip… taste your blood in my mouth before I kissed you. Hard. Your head pressed to the ground in my kitchen.” 

Will snaked his hand under his boxers once again, his cock fully erect as he danced his fingertips over the head. 

“God, I wish I’d fucked you tonight, Will,” Hannibal sighed. 

“Fuck me now,” he breathed. 

Hannibal groaned and the video pixelated for a couple of seconds. “Sorry. Getting rid of some extra attire. I kneed the screen.” 

Will laughed in spite of himself. “I suppose I’ll follow your lead, then.” He lifted his hips from the computer chair in order to slide his jeans off. They stared in silence at one another’s flushed faces. “I wore these tonight, hoping you’d like them.” He stood before the camera, showing Hannibal his boxer briefs, complete with the outline of his hard cock. Will didn’t know where this sudden surge of confidence came from--he guessed it was because he’d never been this goddamned turned on in his entire life. All he could think about, though, was wanting to please Hannibal, wanting to show off for him, make him feel good. He wanted to make Hannibal come. 

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he sighed. 

Will softly palmed his cock through his boxers, watching, his face out of frame, as Hannibal pursed his lips tightly. Will knew Hannibal was doing the same thing he was. 

“As lovely as those are, I’d prefer to see you out of them,” Hannibal suggested. 

Without skipping a beat, Will slid them down and stepped out of both legs, his cock springing freely up toward his belly. He stroked it a couple of times, wetting the insides of his knuckles with pre-come. 

“Will…” Hannibal sighed. 

“Take your shirt off,” Will commanded from offscreen. Hannibal did as ordered, tossing his white t-shirt on the bed beside him. Will leaned down into the frame of the camera, still grasping his cock tightly. He smiled coyly. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Hannibal smirked back. “Fuck, I wish you were here.” The words dripped luxuriously from his mouth. 

“Why?” 

“So I could touch you… I hate that I can’t do it for you.” 

“How would you touch me?” Will slid his body, now damp with sweat, back into the chair. 

“I’d kiss every surface of your skin,” he breathed, “…make you shiver beneath me.” Will could almost feel the shiver as he watched Hannibal’s arm moving beneath his bedsheet. “I want to taste you, all of you. When you sit there in class… I have to fight not to lap you up… your bare neck under my mouth.” 

“Mmmmm,” Will moaned. “I’d reach up from underneath you, take your cock in my hand… ah… I want it so bad.” He licked his lips. 

“I want you, Will.” Hannibal’s face was flushed, his eyelids heavy. 

“Move the sheet,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal lifted the laptop with one hand and kicked the sheet away. When he repositioned, he made sure to allow the camera to linger over his newly exposed body, giving Will a memorable glance at his thin fingers stroking his impossibly hard cock. 

Will felt his breath hitch in his chest… between Hannibal’s erection, his soft stomach, his muscular shoulders… he knew he wouldn’t last long. 

“Fuck,” he growled. “Ah…” 

“Will.” 

“I’ve just… fuck, I… I’ve wanted you for so long, Hannibal.” 

“You’ve got me,” he moaned, pumping his own cock at the same speed Will did. He watched as a heat rash spread over Will’s chest, his thick hair hanging over his forehead. “I wish you were in my mouth right now,” he whispered. “I want to taste you, my tongue on your cock… mmmmm…” Will clenched his eyes shut for a second and when he opened them again, realized Hannibal was close, too. He thrust furiously into his hand, imagining it was the other man’s mouth, throat. 

“Ahhh!” he gasped. 

“Come in my mouth, Will,” Hannibal purred. 

Will yelped quietly, then groaned as he came in his hand. Watching his mouth drop open in ecstasy, eyes fixed on his, Hannibal could hardly believe what he was seeing and came almost simultaneously, gasping for breath. 

“You are quite a naughty boy, Will,” he teased, pointing the camera downward to show off his handiwork, splayed across his chest and stomach. 

“Uh huh, it was all me,” Will laughed, reaching across the desk for a handful of Kleenex to wipe his hand off. Hannibal used his discarded t-shirt to dry his bare skin, then tossed it on the floor. He laid back against the pillow, hands behind his head. 

“Bet you can sleep now,” Will teased, sitting back comfortably against the chair. A chill rushed through his body as his bare skin made contact with the cool leather. 

“I’ll bet you can, as well,” Hannibal laughed. 

Winston barked at a loud squeak of the chair. “Hush, Winston.” 

“That’s a nice name,” Hannibal beamed. Will had never known him to be one for small talk, but he’d also never known him to be one to come on camera. Will tilted the laptop screen toward the floor, showing Hannibal his dog. “He’s quite handsome! Much like his owner.” 

“So…” Will smiled. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m falling asleep,” he yawned. “But I don’t want to leave you.” 

“One day you won’t have to,” Hannibal assured him. Will’s heart swelled at Hannibal’s sudden romanticism. “I do wish I could kiss you goodnight, however.” 

Will blushed. “I’d like that.” Hannibal kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the small camera lens atop his screen. Will returned the gesture, feeling like a teenager with a first crush--exhausted, but absolutely giddy. His brain and body both buzzed with an energy he’d never felt before. 

“Goodnight, Hannibal,” he smiled softly. 

“Goodnight, Will.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“Last week, you all completed the visual perception lab with Mr. Graham,” Hannibal addressed the class. For a fraction of a second, his eyes darted over to Will, who sat in his normal seat at the side of the room. He couldn’t help but turn the corners of his mouth up into a smile as he said his name. Will’d spent the past hour deliberately avoiding eye contact with the professor, unsure where exactly they stood after their Skype tryst. He didn’t regret it, but was terrified that Hannibal did.

“What did you take away from the lab that we can apply to our discussion about neural mechanisms?” Hannibal continued, waiting a few seconds before selecting a student to answer. Will eyed the clock across the room, following the red second hand a full cycle. 11:53. Seven more minutes until he could have a moment with Hannibal, could finally stop holding his breath. 

The dull drone of alternating voices in the lecture hall drove Will further into his anxious daydream. He’d envisioned a dozen options for what he’d say to Hannibal when he was face to face with him, but as the moment crept closer, none of them seemed satisfying. Nausea crawled across Will’s stomach as he tapped his thumb against its neighboring knuckle. 

As students started shuffling around, papers crinkling into bags, book covers being slammed shut, Will immediately jolted his eyes to Dr. Lecter, who did the same toward him. Hannibal looked away only when he was approached by a pair of female students, notes in hand. Will watched him smile kindly at them as he gathered his lecture materials. Even the way Hannibal nodded, the way he dragged his finger along the notebook paper the girls clutched, ruined Will. He knew what those hands could do, what he _wanted_ them to do. 

Hovering awkwardly for a few minutes, fidgeting with his phone, Will finally gave up. Hannibal was bogged down by students with question after question--some of whom, Will guessed, just wanted to be near him. He couldn’t believe he felt jealous of the 18-year-old kids who got to occupy two moments of Hannibal’s time. That time felt like it belonged to him, like Hannibal belonged to him. Will blinked hard, feeling irritatingly like crying, as he turned and tromped up the steeply-slanted aisle toward the door. 

Hannibal looked over the shoulders of the student in front of him and watched Will walk, sucking in air through his teeth as he envisioned what was beneath his jeans. “Dr. Lecter?” a voice shook him. 

“Yes.” His attention snapped back to the student, though all he could think about was how discouraged he was that he hadn’t yet gotten a chance to speak to Will. 

The thought ran through Hannibal’s mind all afternoon. He ate lunch alone in his office, reading the same two pages of a journal article over and over, never really absorbing any of the words. After an hour of attempting to focus, he gave into his desire for a cigarette and wandered outside. It was sunny, warm--altogether a pleasant day, but Hannibal felt as though it was impossible to enjoy anything when he didn’t know what was going through Will’s head. 

Stone-faced and tired-eyed, he leaned against a railing and people-watched, hoping to see a familiar mop of dark hair somewhere in the mix. He knew Will would have to find him at some point today--he had a stack of quizzes to return. 

Will, meanwhile, had walked into the psychology building three times over the course of the past hour, but each time, turned around, sick to his stomach with nerves, before he reached Dr. Lecter’s office. He couldn’t forego his responsiblities to his job, but he damn sure could put them off as long as possible. It was nearly 3:30 before his stomach had settled enough to let his brain say fuck it and get past the lobby of the building. 

Will hovered, just barely peeking around the corner of Dr. Lecter’s doorframe. “Um…” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi.” He was glad he had a mess of student papers in his hand--something to clench to disguise how much he was trembling. 

“Will,” Hannibal smiled softly, trying to mask how relieved he was to see him. He stood up from his desk and circled around to greet him. Once beside him, though, Hannibal realized he wasn’t sure what to do in the moment, and settled for a firm squeeze of Will’s upper-arm. “I’m glad you’re here,” he assured Will, pulling the door shut behind him. 

“So…” Will looked down at the floor and half-heartedly kicked at a pebble. “I have these for you.” He extended the sloppy handful of papers to Hannibal, who met Will’s hand with his own, stroking his knuckles with his thumb. Will smiled shyly. 

“Should we talk?” Hannibal asked quietly, lowering his eyes to Will’s. 

“I was afraid you didn’t want to talk to me.” 

“Of course I wanted to talk to you, Will. I have barely gotten anything done all day because I was worried you were upset with me.” 

“Me?” Will chuckled. “I’m the opposite of upset.” 

Hannibal tossed the papers onto his desk, not caring how they fanned out atop everything else, making a mess of his otherwise orderly workspace. “Now that we have that clear…” he smiled. 

Will took his messenger back off his shoulder and sat it gingerly in the chair. “What a day,” he rubbed his eyes. 

Hannibal lovingly gazed at Will for a moment before wrapping his arms protectively around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. Will wasn’t used to hugs and temporarily stiffened before allowing himself to melt into Hannibal’s arms. He twined his small arms around the middle of the older man’s back, clasping onto him as if he was hanging on for dear life. For the past 48 hours, it’d felt that way--like he would drown in himself if he didn’t have Hannibal nearby to rescue him. 

Hannibal heard Will exhale heavily and stroked his hair in response. “Sweet, sweet Will.” He gently kissed the top of his forehead. When they pulled apart from one another, Will couldn’t stop grinning. “Oh,” Hannibal remembered, holding up one finger. “I almost forgot.” He kneeled down and unhooked his briefcase, pulling out a crinkly stuffed dog bone. Will laughed. “I got this for Winston…” Hannibal handed it to him, blushing slightly. “I didn’t know if he’d--” 

“He’ll love it,” Will held the toy to his chest, incredibly touched by the gesture. He was the only one who’d ever done anything for Winston, and to have Hannibal care about him before he’d ever met him… to care about him only because he did… it meant more than Will could find words for. 

He tucked it safely in the front pocket of his bag. “So would you like to have the conversation about what we’re doing?” Hannibal asked now that the iced had been sufficiently broken. 

“Well,” Will started, one hand on his hip, the other fidgeting with his glasses. “What do… you… want to be doing?” 

Hannibal chuckled. “Spending time with you. Being with you.” 

Will stepped nearer to Hannibal, closing the distance between them. “That sounds like a good start.” 

Hannibal rested a hand on the small of Will’s back, drawing him close. “Touching you,” he whispered. Will gulped and latticed his fingers behind Hannibal’s back. “Kissing you.” The younger man gazed up expectantly; Hannibal didn’t disappoint, leaning down ever-so-slightly, tilting his head in what felt to Will like slow motion. It gave Will long enough to rationalize what was about to happen, and he couldn’t wait the extra half-second. He hungrily leaned up, capturing Hannibal’s mouth with his own, softly at first, tentatively. 

Will was slightly embarrassed at the quiet moan that fell from his lips, its sound vibrating against Hannibal’s eager mouth. He felt Hannibal’s lips curl into a smile and used the tip of his tongue to slide them apart, allowing himself further access to his mouth. Hannibal pulled Will closer, their respective body heats warming the other as Hannibal reached one hand up to clasp the back of Will’s head, the kiss reaching a fever pitch. 

When Will pulled back for air, he saw a hunger in Hannibal’s dark eyes. Knowing he’d provoked it, knowing he’d made Hannibal want him, gave him an unfamiliar rush. “Wow,” he smirked, raising a satisfied eyebrow. 

Hannibal squeezed the back of Will’s neck before letting him go. “I have a late meeting,” he sighed once he’d separated from Will. He shuffled the students’ quizzes into a stack. “But would you like to have a drink tonight? Perhaps we can complete the grand tour this evening?” His face was stoic, elegant, but Will could see through it. He’d caught a glimpse of Hannibal coming undone, and every molecule of his being craved more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing more right now, I swear! Check back sometime this week for the ending! xo!


	6. Chapter 6

“You bought that?” Will laughed incredulously at the mostly-full bottle of Evan Williams Green Hannibal pulled out of the cabinet. Hannibal didn’t respond at first, only grabbed two glasses and half-filled them, neat.

“I did.” Hannibal handed a glass to Will, who let his fingertips linger in the touch as he accepted it. 

“For me?” 

“Partially. The taste reminds me of you,” he smiled. “I imagine that this is what your mouth would have tasted like had I kissed you when I should have.” He held the tumbler beneath his nose, inhaling the bitter, oaky scent. 

Will’s eyes shined. “Hannibal Lecter, a true romantic.” 

“Perhaps.” Will could see Hannibal’s mouth curling into a smile behind the glass. The two men tapped their glasses in silence and each took a hearty swig. Will noticed that Hannibal didn’t cringe or fuss his face up this time. 

Will leaned casually against the refrigerator, one hand in his pocket, trying to belie how nervous he was. Hannibal, resting against the countertop, spoke first. “You graded those quizzes rather quickly!” 

“Ha!” 

“What?” He took a slow sip. 

“The grading is easy. It’s just memorizing--BDA, BCC, DACA,” he reeled off the correct quiz answers. “I just hum the pattern so I barely have to use my brain when I mark them.” 

“I was never patient enough to grade,” Hannibal chuckled. “I suppose I’m doubly fortunate to have you.” 

“Well…” He raised his glass toward Hannibal before taking a swallow. “You do the hard work anyway. You saw me--I’m so anxious in front of them. I don’t know how I ever plan to teach.” 

“You’ll be a marvelous teacher, Will.” 

“I’m skeptical.” 

Hannibal shrugged. “I’m not. I have full faith in you.” 

Over the past couple of semesters, Will’s mental notes while observing Hannibal had been less about what to bring into psych lab and more about how to conduct himself in the classroom. He still had to rehearse lab instructions ahead of time, using Winston as his stand-in student. “I’ve gotten better,” Will admitted. “Leading a lab is a lot less intimidating than talking to a lecture hall, though. I don’t know how you do it.” 

“I simply got used to it,” Hannibal replied. “You’ll do the same.” 

Will smiled and after a pause, asked, “How was your meeting?” 

Hannibal replied with a snort and a sip of whiskey. “It seems the university has some grand ideas about where our funding should be allocated.” 

“Not to the department?” Will raised an eyebrow. 

“Administrators’ salaries. Extra hires in the offices, less hires in the sciences and humanities.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Will shook his head. 

“Indeed.” Hannibal tipped his glass up to polish off the whiskey. “No point ruining our evening with it.” He pointed toward Will’s tumbler. “Drink up.” He grinned, showing his eyeteeth. 

Will did as he was commanded, then handed the empty glass to his host for a refill, which he promptly received. “Want to… uh… get some air?” he asked, sipping off the top. 

“Or perhaps you’d like to see the rest of the house?” Will knew what Hannibal was implying, and nodded, color creeping across his cheeks. 

Drink in hand, Hannibal started down the hallway. Remembering how poorly it ended last time he was there, Will glared childishly at the guest bathroom as he passed it. 

“I suppose it’s not like you haven’t already seen my bedroom,” Hannibal nudged him as he led him inside. 

Will raised his eyebrows temptingly. “I haven’t seen enough of it,” he teased. 

“Something tells me you may be seeing it frequently from here on out.” Hannibal swigged from his drink and set the rest of it on the dresser. 

Will wandered around the room, marveling at how organized it was. Even Hannibal’s closet, door slid open, was meticulously arranged--no comparison to his, with its clumsily-hung flannels and crooked stacks of worn-out white t-shirts. No, Hannibal’s wardrobe was sharply pressed and arranged by color. His hangers matched, his shoes were paired up, and there were no unfolded pairs of underwear sticking out of his drawers. 

Will did, however, notice the lack of photos in the room. There was framed black-and-white artwork, but no pictures of family or friends. _He_ at least had a photo of himself with Winston propped in a cheap frame on the dresser, but the top of Hannibal’s dresser held only books and a pair of gold cufflinks--along with, now, a half-finished glass of whiskey. Will couldn’t quite figure out why this made him so sad--all he knew was that it made him want to hold Hannibal. 

Setting his whiskey beside Hannibal’s, he took the older man in his arms, giving him an almost-too-tight hug. Hannibal rested his chin on the top of Will’s head and squeezed back, letting his eyes drift closed, existing only in his body, only in that moment. 

“What was that for?” he asked. 

“I dunno,” Will replied. “I just wanted to hold you… protect you from something. I don’t know what.” 

Hannibal brushed Will’s hair from his face and smiled tenderly. “You mustn’t feel like you have to protect me, Will. Let me protect you.” Will looked abnormally small, young, in the moment. “I’ve always…” he drifted off by kissing Will’s forehead. “I’ve always felt responsible for you.” 

“Why?” Will asked, voice filled with curiosity. 

“I look at you…” Hannibal kissed the same place again. “And I wish I could make everything easier for you.” 

“You do,” Will whispered back. 

Hannibal responded with a closed-mouth smile, eyes softening in a way that Will thought showed his age. He was handsome--deeply so--and the creases around the corners of his eyes and lips made him even more beautiful. 

When Will kissed him, the look didn’t fade from Hannibal’s face. Feeling the smile under his lips flooded Will with emotion, and he reached up, stroking Hannibal’s strong cheekbones with his entire palm, reveling in how his hand seemed perfectly made for that place. 

Never letting go of Will’s mouth, Hannibal spun him around so his back was to the bed, kissing him so hard their teeth crashed together. Will had never seen Hannibal this intense, this voracious. He tasted blood in his mouth, but couldn’t be sure which of them it came from. As Hannibal pushed him down backwards onto the bed, Will licked his own lip, clearing a trickle of it from his skin. The salty, iron taste made him quiver. 

Hannibal used his body to spread Will’s knees apart, locking himself between them and leaning down to hover over him. “You’re okay?” he whispered. Will nodded and reached for Hannibal with both hands. Hannibal was quick to grab Will’s wrists and slam them back down onto the bed, eliciting a smirk from him. 

“Not yet,” Hannibal breathed into Will’s mouth, kissing him softly. “Not…” he kissed Will’s cheek. “Yet.” He felt the younger man’s arms relax, and let go of them, certain Will wouldn’t disobey. 

Will’s skin prickled with goosebumps as Hannibal’s hair traipsed across his neck, Hannibal nuzzling into him, leaving tiny, soft kisses from his ear to his collarbone. A small moan trickled from his lips as Hannibal nipped his thin, pliable skin with the tips of his teeth. Hannibal pressed himself closer to Will, the heat from Will’s thighs burning into him, and sunk his teeth harder into Will’s neck. “Oh, sweet Will,” he breathed into the place he’d just bitten, soothing it with a suck and gentle swirl of his tongue. At that, Will’s hips involuntarily bucked hard against Hannibal, an action that was met with an “mmmm” of pleasure from him. 

“You enjoy belonging to me?” he whispered gruffly, tangling a hand in Will’s hair. 

Will nodded, feeling his cheeks flood with warmth. Hannibal pulled softly at Will’s curls and slid him closer to the edge of the bed, grinding their hips together. “Here,” Hannibal murmured, running both hands beneath Will’s t-shirt and slowly savoring the feel of his bare skin beneath his hands before pulling the shirt over his head. His tongue darted from his lips as he admired Will’s body stretched out before him, so delicate compared to his own. 

Will’s hands still rest politely at his sides, as per Hannibal’s command. Hannibal bent down, tracing Will’s small shoulder muscles with his lips, fluttering his lips back and forth across his chest and down to his nipples. He softly kissed the first before enveloping it with his mouth, using his tongue to tease Will to the point he couldn’t remain obedient and knotted his hands into Hannibal’s hair, pulling him nearer. As Hannibal used his lips and hands to memorize every inch of Will’s smooth chest and torso, he felt Will’s cock pressing against his sternum. He closed his eyes and relished the feeling--forcing himself to be patient as he kissed his way around Will’s belly button. 

Once he reached Will’s waist, Hannibal stood up. “Unbutton your pants.” Will did as he was asked, never taking his eyes off Hannibal, who now took his own shirt off, exposing his thick, masculine chest. “Show me how you touched yourself the other night.” His accent dripped, syrupy thick, from his tongue. 

Will’s hand slipped beneath his boxer briefs to stroke himself. Hannibal stepped out of his pants, then pulled Will’s off by the feet. “Good boy,” he whispered, electrified at the sight of Will pleasuring himself. “My good, sweet boy,” he purred. Will didn’t think it was possible for him to be any harder, but hearing Hannibal talk to him like that sent a rush of blood into his cock, causing a moan to pour from his lips. 

Hannibal smirked tauntingly. “That does it for you?” He slid his hand under Will’s boxers, placing it atop Will’s, moving in rhythm with him. “Being my boy…?” He nudged Will’s hand aside so he could be the one to tease his throbbing cock. Licking his lips, he leaned down atop Will, mouth against his ear as he stroked him. “Tell me.” 

Will pressed his cheek to Hannibal’s. “I’m yours… all yours…” Hannibal’s hand sped up along Will’s erection as he wetted his hand with his pre-come. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“Ahh!” Will gasped. “You… I want you… in my mouth.” 

Hannibal kissed the side of his head, inhaling the sweat from his scalp. “What do good little boys say?” 

“Please!” he begged. 

“Mmmmm,” Hannibal moaned in pleasure, loosely holding Will’s throat with one hand, the other softly dancing across Will’s cock. His eyes met Will’s, all blown pupils and ferocious hunger. Hannibal’s large hand squeezed Will’s throat as he pulled the other out of Will’s boxers in order to strip himself of his own. 

“This is what you want?” he whispered teasingly to Will as he stood over him, hard cock parallel to Will’s naked chest. 

Will nodded. “Please.” Hannibal stepped back, allowing Will to slide off the bed and drop to his knees on the hardwood floor. 

His hands worked in tandem, sliding up and down Hannibal’s erection before he leaned forward and swallowed him in one fell swoop. The intermingling surprise and arousal on Hannibal’s face as he gazed down at Will sent a shock through Will’s veins. Slowly, he moved his mouth back, dragging his tongue along the underside of Hannibal’s cock, wanting him to feel as tortured as he had. 

“Will…” Hannibal breathed, as the younger man moved one hand ever so slightly against his cock, lapping at the head with his tongue. Will--just once--sucked firmly, wanting to make sure he remembered the salty-sweet taste of Hannibal’s pre-come. He wetted his lips and allowed Hannibal to use both of his palms to push his head forward along the length of him. The lack of control caused Will to gag as Hannibal hit the back of his throat. Tears sprang to his eyes, but Hannibal held him in place. “Good boy,” he moaned. “So good…” He thrust into his throat as Will stroked him with one hand. 

Will could feel Hannibal getting close and pulled back toward the bed. Hannibal released his grip on his head. “Are you okay?” Hannibal gasped. 

“I can’t make it that easy on you,” Will teased. “Something about torture… pain being beneficial…” 

Hannibal laughed aloud, then cupped his hand beneath Will’s chin, pulling him up to meet him. “What have I gotten myself into with you?” he played. 

“You’ll have to find out.” Will grabbed hold of Hannibal’s shoulders, pulling him close in an embrace as they kissed. 


	7. Chapter 7

Hannibal snaked his hands down Will’s back and beneath his boxers, squeezing his ass tightly. He massaged Will’s muscles, all the while sliding his underwear down bit by bit until they dropped to the ground. Drawn close together, the sensation of his cock brushing against Will’s was almost too much for Hannibal to handle.

Will leaned back onto the bed, pulling Hannibal down atop him. He rolled his hips into Will’s, drawing moans from each of their kiss-swollen mouths before turning Will over. Through sweat-damp hair, Will looked back over his shoulder at Hannibal on his knees hovering above him. He could see his saliva glistening on Hannibal and breathed heavily, anticipating what was about to happen. Hannibal stared down at him as he leaned in, tracing a line down Will’s lower back and across his ass with his cock. He reached up, forcing Will’s head down between two pillows, and began grinding his hips against Will’s backside, letting the tip of his cock fall between Will’s cheeks. 

Breath came difficulty to Will, his face still pressed into the pillows, but he didn’t mind. He rutted his hips against the bed, desperate for friction. “No, Will,” Hannibal commanded aggressively, pressing Will’s hip down hard with one hand. “Be patient.” Will squirmed. “Be a good boy for me,” he whispered into the back of his neck. Will felt his cock twitch against the comforter and squirmed again. Hannibal dragged his other hand down to hold Will’s body in place. 

Will momentarily stiffened at Hannibal’s roughness, but relaxed as soon as he kissed the small of his back, his teeth tugging softly at the delicate hair there. His hands traced down Will’s hips to the sides of his thighs, just barely touching him before he dug his fingers into Will’s flesh, pulling him apart, exposing him. Hannibal saw a slight tremble build in the backs of Will’s thighs as he pulled him up by the hips, angling him for easy access. 

Hannibal kissed at Will’s thin, sensitive flesh before trailing his tongue down to tease, tentatively at first, at his entrance. Will whimpered. “Are you okay?” Hannibal pulled away slightly. 

Will nodded vigorously, burying his face in the crook of his elbow where he was propped up. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, his voice vulnerable. 

Without a word, Hannibal returned to Will’s body, alternating small flicks of his tongue with long, lapping strokes. Hannibal reached around the side of Will’s body to palm the younger man’s cock, marveling at how wet he was beneath his fingers. He stroked him languidly, working in time with his tongue, and shivering at the broken moans falling from Will’s buried mouth. 

“Will?” 

Will lifted his eyes, looking nervously over his shoulder. 

“You are a marvel,” he smiled. Will’s face, streaked with sweat and flushed with desire, broke into a grin that Hannibal couldn’t help but crawl up beside him to kiss. 

Will wrapped his fingers into Hannibal’s hair, pulling his face close to his. He wasn’t even worried about their lips fitting together. He just wanted--needed--their skin close, his eyelashes sweeping across Hannibal’s cheekbone, Hannibal’s breath aflame against his nose as they turned their bodies toward one another. 

After a moment, Will climbed eagerly atop Hannibal, lips parted seductively as his stomach flooded with the heat of his cock rubbing against Hannibal’s. Bracing himself on the bed on either side of the older man’s chest, he drew the length of his body up and down Hannibal’s, focusing intently on the feeling of Hannibal’s chest hair against his mouth, his soft stomach beneath his hips. Will wanted to be sure he remembered every minute of this--every muscle, every scent, every low, guttural sound he enticed from Hannibal. 

Will dragged his pursed lips against Hannibal’s cock, feeling drunk with power as he made it twitch beneath him. Hannibal lay on his back, hands resting behind his head, curiously watching Will, who had moved on to kissing the insides of his thighs. Reaching down to lazily stroke himself, Hannibal smiled as Will looked at up from between his legs. “What would you like, Will?” 

Will’s eyes danced to where Hannibal slowly pumped his own cock, then back to meet his eyes. “I dunno,” he smirked. 

“Come here,” Hannibal smirked in return. 

Will crawled lasciviously up Hannibal’s body, straddling him to meet him in a kiss. “Do you want…” Hannibal clenched Will’s ass with both hands. Before Hannibal could finish the question, Will had rolled off of Hannibal and was lying on his stomach in anticipation. Hannibal chuckled under his breath. “Get back here.” 

Will scooted nearer, causing Hannibal to laugh aloud. He grabbed Will by the biceps, picking him and setting him back atop his stomach, straddling him once again. Flitting his middle finger over the sensitive, swollen head of Will’s cock, Hannibal’s eyes glimmered. “Top drawer,” he pointed with the other hand. Will reached over, pulling the bedside drawer open and retrieving a small bottle of lubricant. 

As he closed the drawer, he captured Hannibal’s lips in a rough kiss, wanting to taste every inch of the inside of his mouth. After a moment, he clicked open the bottle and handed it to Hannibal, unsure of what exactly he wanted to happen next. Hannibal read the uncertainty all over Will’s face. “Okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah… I… um…” he stammered, a heat rash creeping across his chest. 

“What is it? You can tell me.” 

“I’ve only ever, uh… I don’t really know how… yeah, I’m not very experienced with…” 

Hannibal smiled, an expansive closed-mouth smile. “I am perfectly content with that.” He paused. “However… perhaps I can show you some options?” He raised an eyebrow, watching for any hint of a response on Will’s innocent face. 

He smirked. “You’ll have to teach me… Dr. Lecter.” Hannibal licked his lips, unable to hide how much hearing Will call him that turned him on. 

“Oh, I’ll teach you. And as long as you behave, you’ll get a reward,” he winked. He reached up to kiss Will as he slowly dripped the lube onto his fingers. Will leaned down, bearing his knees into the bed on either side of Hannibal, ready. The coldness of the lube sent a chill through Will’s lower half as Hannibal tentatively pressed one fingertip to him. “Ahhh,” Will moaned, closing his eyes as Hannibal entered him with a single finger, moving slowly, cautiously, watching Will’s reaction. 

Hannibal’s eyes widened as he felt Will begin to relax around one finger, then two. The boy looked so small atop him, barely moving--just relishing in the feeling of Hannibal inside of him. He opened his eyes, boring them into Hannibal’s. Will’s head was tilted down slightly, lips parted as if he couldn’t form the words he was looking for. Hannibal could hear him breathing shallowly. He nodded once, a silent question. Will moaned quietly in response: “Yessss.” 

“Yes?” 

“Yes, please!” Will begged. Hannibal handed Will the open bottle of lube, which he promptly squeezed over Hannibal’s cock. The coldness sent a visible shiver through his body, causing the fine hairs on his arms to stand on end. 

“Slowly,” Hannibal guided Will, lifting him slightly to position him over his cock. “Slowly.” 

Will lowered himself down slowly onto Hannibal, grimacing at first. “Okay?” Hannibal asked, grasping Will with both hands by the small of his back. 

“Fffffffuck,” Will hissed, face flushed. He rocked slowly, in movements that would’ve been almost imperceptible to anyone else, wanting to feel as much of Hannibal as he could. 

Hannibal heaved a long, low sigh, barely believing what he was seeing--Will Graham, _his_ Will, clenching him with all the strength his body could muster. He thrust once, shallowly, into Will, a movement that caused Will’s jaw to fall open in a helpless moan. 

“Please… please…” His begging was irresistible to Hannibal, who dug his fingertips into Will’s lower back, holding him in place as he thrust upward, faster, harder, his hips rising off the bed and into Will’s. 

“Ohhh, Will,” Hannibal gasped. “Will…” Will stretched downward, palming Hannibal’s stomach as Hannibal thrust deeper. His desire to kiss Hannibal’s softly rounded stomach caused him to move too far from Hannibal’s thrusts, and Hannibal pulled out of Will’s body. Will reached up, twisting his fingers through Hannibal’s greying chest hair as he danced light kisses beneath his bottom ribs, down his stomach. 

Hannibal shivered as Will’s tongue swirled through the thin trail of hair below his belly button. Will smiled up proudly at him, a new wave of confidence arcing through his body. Shifting on the bed, Hannibal tugged at Will’s hair, encouraging him back up to straddling position. With one forceful thrust, he entered Will, causing the younger man to yelp. He grabbed onto Hannibal’s hip bones beneath him for leverage as he thrust once more before stopping. 

“I want to watch you,” Hannibal growled playfully, sliding his hands up to the sides of Will’s stomach. He eyed Will’s throat, watching him swallow hard, and smirked. Hannibal slowly circled his hips, pushing himself further into Will, then waited. 

Timidly, Will dug his fingers into Hannibal’s skin and lifted himself slightly off Hannibal’s cock. Hannibal could tell Will was nervous. “Just like that,” he assured him and tilted his head back against the pillow. 

Will reached behind him, clasping Hannibal’s thighs for balance as he thrust himself against him, only flinching the first few times before his body began to relax. Hannibal was drunk with lust, watching Will fuck himself with abandon, pace quickening, along with his grip on his thighs. 

“Goddamn,” Hannibal moaned, after a moment, eyes wide, breath hitching in his heaving chest. 

He could feel he was close, and slid his hips away, forcing Will off of him. “I…” Will started, apologetically. 

“You are perfect,” Hannibal breathed heavily. “I still have much to teach you, though.” Will grinned in anticipation, absent-mindedly stroking his own throbbing cock. “Would you like to try more things, Will?” 

Will nodded excitedly. Hannibal grabbed the leaking bottle of lube from the bedside table and messily squeezed it over Will’s cock, not caring that it dripped all over his own stomach, stroking him firmly to wet the length of him. “Okay,” he smiled paternally. 

Will bit the corner of his lip as Hannibal propped a pillow beneath his tailbone, offering himself. Not thinking about otherwise prepping him, Will touched the head of his cock to Hannibal’s tight muscle. Hannibal couldn’t help but think Will looked like he was focusing on a particularly complicated homework assignment. Will’s brow furrowed slightly as he slowly pushed into Hannibal. 

Hannibal groaned at the sensation. “Good, Will… ah… good.” He touched the tip of his tongue to his top teeth and sucked in a rush of air as Will forced his cock past his tight muscle. 

“Is that good?” Will whispered, holding still once he was fully inside him. 

“Yes!” Hannibal exclaimed with a snicker. 

“How should I--” Will started. 

“Do what feels good, Will. You won’t hurt me.” 

“Okay,” Will replied with a firm nod of his head. “Okay.” 

He reached back to clasp Hannibal’s knees with both hands, pulling them up beside him to allow him to thrust deeper. As Will sped up, rolling his hips into him, Hannibal tilted his head back, desperately grasping his hair with his own hand. 

“Ahhhh, fuck!” Hannibal moaned. Will was surprised to hear normally-put-together Hannibal talk like that. This was the view he’d been waiting for--Hannibal falling apart, gasping and quivering as he thrusted into him. 

“Will!” Hannibal cried insatiably. “Ye--ye--yes!” 

Will pursed his lips, sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m gonna come!” he hissed, starting to pull out of Hannibal. 

“Come in me, Will. Please.” Will panted for breath and pushed hard into Hannibal; with an electric tremble, he felt himself come deep inside him, an action that elicited a long whimper from Hannibal. 

“Hannibal…” Will moaned. “Jesus.” 

Hannibal cupped his hand over his own mouth in awe as he lowered his knees, reveling in how full he felt even after Will pulled out of him. Before Hannibal could say anything, Will sat low on his knees between Hannibal’s thighs and took him in his mouth. It only took a few seconds before Hannibal’s legs began trembling. 

Will--ever-observant--licked firmly up the underside of his cock before removing his mouth with a quiet _pop_. He pumped him fervently, leaning close over him so Hannibal could feel his warm breath on the head of his cock. 

“W--w-- _ahhh_ \-- _mmmm_ \--” Hannibal choked on Will’s name as he came both on and in Will’s mouth. Will was almost surprised by how warm his tongue was, how warm it trickled down the back of his throat as he swallowed slowly. Will massaged all around his lips with his tongue, wanting to savor the taste of him. 

When he finally looked up at Hannibal, he was met with kind eyes. “Good?” Will asked playfully. 

“ _Very_ good,” Hannibal smirked, extending a hand to Will in order to pull him up next to him. He nipped at Will’s lower lip with his teeth, catching the almost-bittersweet taste of himself there. Hannibal mussed Will’s sweat-soaked hair with his hand, settling him in the crook of his arm so Will’s head rested comfortably on his shoulder. He could feel Will’s heart pounding through his damp skin. 

Will settled into the embrace, curling his naked body against Hannibal’s and grinning up at him. “I had a good teacher.” 


End file.
